


Leannan

by megthemewlingquim



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Cunnilingus, Emotional Sex, F/M, Fanfiction, First Time Sex, Gaelic Language, Loss of Virginity, Love, Loving Marriage, Marriage, Marvel - Freeform, Old Norse, Romance, Size Kink, Smut, lovemaking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-07
Updated: 2020-09-07
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:23:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26333320
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/megthemewlingquim/pseuds/megthemewlingquim
Summary: You and your husband, Loki, make love for the first time.
Relationships: Loki (Marvel)/Reader
Comments: 4
Kudos: 84





	Leannan

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written for and posted on Tumblr. 
> 
> This is the fic that I am the most proud of. I hope you like it.

You had never thought that you would spend the rest of your life with a god, but are you complaining? Absolutely not.

He has been your husband for… nine hours, three minutes, and… and you’ve lost track of the seconds. You doubt that he has, though. No, Loki can keep track of things like that.

You’re standing in his — no, your — room, with your arms around yourself. Standing still, your eyes are fixed on the bed.

“And what has my wife so frightened, hmm?”

A caress against the back of your shoulder. Goosebumps break out at Loki’s touch, but there is no fear. Not here.

“Oh,” you say, your voice betraying your emotions, “I’m — I’m not frightened.” You smile. “It’s just… newlyweds usually… ”

“Seal the deal?”

“Ye— yeah. That.”

“You don’t seem frightened, but you are nervous, as most wives are on their wedding night.” He comes into your field of vision, and you see his youthful face, so full of life and love. Love towards you. “A chagair, we don’t have to do anything tonight… we don’t have to do anything at all, if you don’t want to. Now, or ever.”

He has slipped in a Gaelic word — now you know this is something sincere. He’s only ever spoken in Gaelic to you. That, and Norse. The Gaelic was laced into his wedding vows as well. You have yet to find out what any if it means, but he assured you after the wedding that you would find out in time.

“I do want to,” you say. “I don’t feel pressured or anything like that. You’re my husband, Loki.” The unfamiliar sentence makes its way past your lips and it slips out like a snake, curling with the tilt of your head and lifting its own head at your smile.

And with your smile comes his. He takes your hands in his, lifting them to his own lips and kissing your fingers, making his way up your hands, up to your arms. One arm drops to your side as his attention lingers on the other, but it comes back up again to run through Loki’s hair, which is still one of the softest things you’ve ever touched.

“Say it,” he mumbles into your skin. “Please, say that you want me.”

“I love you.”

There’s meaning in that exchange, and you both know it. Loki pulls back, slowly, and looks up at you with that look, the one that tells you, I don’t deserve you. “My—” he gasps, “my darling, I—”

Then he’s up again, kissing you with more ferocity and passion than usual. The wedding kiss. He cups your face in his calloused hands, thumbs swiping over your cheeks.

“I love you so much, leannan,” he whispers when he pulls his lips away from yours. His eyes are glistening. “How I ever ended up with you…” He interrupts himself with an overjoyed, choked up laugh.

“You doubt your own worth,” you say with a smile. “You won’t ever have to do that again. Not with me…not with anyone.” You reach up and wipe his eyes.

He says nothing at that, but you know he’s feeling so many things: denial, humility, adoration… He doesn’t have to say anything. You don’t want him to, anyway.

Gently, he moves you toward the bed. The door has been shut, and the lights have been dimmed. You can still see him, and that’s all you need for you to feel safe.

He lays you down onto the bed, letting his eyes wander over your form. He notices the small rise and fall of your chest, the smoothness of your legs, the way you’re looking up at him, hope and love now betraying your own thoughts of nervousness and hesitation.

“I am going to ravish you tonight,” he says, and it is good and real and he loves you. Dear God, he loves you he loves you and he’s gonna go to his grave with those words on his lips.

“Are you?” you ask and it’s amiable and joking and you love him…

“Yes, my sweetness, I am. If you’ll let me.” Loki starts to caress you now, gentle hands making his way, almost hesitantly, up your legs, up your clothed torso. His right hand finds a breast, and he squeezes it, gently, thumb swiping over the hardened nipple there. And there’s a sound he hears — a sigh, but it’s different this time. It’s not annoyed, it’s not tired. It is relaxation, it is courage, it is acceptance.

“Yes,” you sigh. He helps you out of your nightgown, slips it above your head. You wear nothing now except a white pair of lace underwear. Innocence, he thinks as he looks down at that part of you, that chaste and secret part of you that even you haven’t explored too much.

He leaves it as he rises to meet your lips with his again. He has to be slow, gentle, patient. He must make this good and natural for you.

Your eyes flick all over him. You look at his chest, his muscular arms that are not holding you just yet, his emerald eyes that are darkened with lust… lust for you… and what surprises you the most is actually not that. It is, simply, how tall and big he seems, hanging over your small, delicate form.

“What is it?” Loki asks, and a smile makes its way to his face.

“Oh, it’s nothing. Just… ah, how… how little I am compared to you. I feel very small. And… and I like it.”

He hums. “You’re my little one, aren’t you?” He moves his head to your neck and slowly, slowly kisses there, and something about that makes you shiver.

Then, he makes his way down, looking up occasionally to see your reactions. He kisses and caresses your breasts, then your stomach. You gasp when he leaves a little love bite down near your hip.

The moment of truth comes as he looks at your covered sex. He can clearly see that you are ready for him. “May I take these off?” he asks, his voice so quiet you barely hear him. You nod, and he does. He slips your underwear off of you, the sound of the fabric on skin soothing to you in the oddest of ways. Then, he looks down at you.

You don’t hide yourself, nor do you make a show of yourself. You are just there, all bare and naked in the dark before him. You don’t quite know what to do with your hands, your legs, and you don’t know what you should be looking at, either.

He says your name, in a voice that sounds so awed and overwhelmed. He glances briefly up at you. That smile has still not left his face. “My darling, you’re stunning. Ethereal. Absolutely exquisite.”

He goes lower, and your breath hitches as a green light surrounds him for a moment, ridding him of his clothes. Your hand finds his. “What are you doing?”

“I know you’re already ready for me, pet, but… I just want to taste you.”

Good God, how can he make such dirty words sound so shy and caring?

Though you have your doubts about whether he’ll like it, you let him.

He takes his time, memorizing the taste and feel of every inch of you down there and it’s wonderful. His tongue swipes through your lips and up to your clit, spreading warmth wherever it goes. Breathless, you gasp and quiver as he continues.

“My dear,” Loki says, lifting his head to give you a way to catch your breath, but also to tease, “you’ve no idea how incredibly arousing it is to have you like this…” He seems very lost in thought. “Submitting to every ounce of pleasure I give you…”

You moan at his words. “Loki, I need you, please, I — ah—”

He interrupts you by licking up your folds and sucking on your clit again. “I know, sweetness. I know. And you shall have me. I guess this’ll have to wait.”

He moves, then, kissing his way back up to your face. And as his body lifts, you get a good look at him and your mind blanks.

Oh, he’s beautiful…

Mostly pale skin, with some blush on his chest. He isn’t overly muscular, but you can tell by his arms and his torso that he does have strength to him.

You look lower. It’s the first time you’ve seen a penis up close like this, and you can somehow say that Loki’s is very nice. A little bit on the slimmer side, but it is a little longer. And it is rock hard.

“Lítár þú,” Loki mutters dreamily, his eyes scanning over your entire body. “Minn wife.”

His voice sounds wonderful in English, and it sounds absolutely ethereal in Gaelic and Norse. It sounds so smooth, so foreign, oddly comforting.

He moves closer, so that your legs are beside his own and he is almost at that spot that you’ve dreamed about, prayed for, the place a husband and wife are connected, with him on top. “Are you ready?” He smiles, gently, carressing your left thigh.

“Yes,” you say simply.

You lift your arms, like a toddler pleading to go up, and Loki falls on top of you, his arms on either side of your shoulders.

Time seems to stop.

You are face to face, breathing in each other’s air, and your eyes are locked. All that you know in that moment is that the man you are looking at is your best friend, your lover, your husband. Your brand new husband, your only husband. Your joyful smile tells him everything he needs to know:

God Almighty, I love you.

And he answers with the same smile. “Leannan,” he whispers. “That means beloved. ”

Your eyes fill with tears.

A warning look comes over his face then, as he looks down at where the both of you are moments away from being united. “I will not deny that this will hurt. But I will do what I can to ease your pain. It will only hurt for a moment.”

And, ever so slowly, he pushes in. He does it as if one wrong, badly timed movement will cause you to almost scream with pain — he does it carefully, never taking his eyes off of your face, never taking his arms away from where they keep him above you.

You gasp at the first flicker of pain you feel. Then, your gasps turn to little cries, little whimpers.

Loki shushes you, his tone so quiet you can barely hear him. “I know, I know it hurts. It’ll be over soon.”

A couple more seconds, and he is fully inside you. Your breath comes in little gasps as the dull pain fades. Loki himself releases one breath, one that is laced with lust. “There you go, it’s over. Good job,” he says, wiping your eyes with a hand, “Are you alright?”

You nod, weakly, offering him a smaller smile. “Yeah,” you whisper, “yeah, I’m good.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

He looks over you again, just to make sure he hasn’t hurt you in any way. Then, his face becomes more determined.

“I am going to make love to you,” he says, and your breath hitches. You’ve always loved that phrase.

What he does next surprises you. He moves, almost laying completely on top of you now, and wraps his arms around your shoulders. His head goes low to kiss at your neck again, and that is when you feel his length moving inside of you.

You lose your breath at the first thrust, suddenly consumed by an urge to wrap your own arms… and legs… around his warm body.

You’ve never been closer to him in your entire life.

“Yes,” Loki murmurs into your ear, “yes, hold on to me.” His lips graze your temple. “Let me take care of you now.”

And you do. You let him move inside of you, thrusting slowly and gently, giving you pleasures you’ve never felt before. He moves with a firmness, but a passionate one. Every stroke he makes is long and slow, and he pushes back into you with a determination. The pleasure in your limbs grows with every stroke, from not being there at all to a low sensation in your groin to a fire that’s burning you from the inside out.

You grip at him, sobbing with the force of it all. It’s too much and it’s perfect and it’s too much and you’re crying, begging for this passion to last. Loki notices, and though his hips don’t stop their movements, he moves his torso back up to hover over yours. His own eyes now shine with tears, as well.

He kisses you, sharing that same feeling of seemingly unconditional love coming from the both of you.

This goes on for some time — you can only do so much in a situation like this — but once Loki’s hips stutter and his breathing becomes more labored, you know it’s almost over. You as well, are inching closer to your own end, and one shaky whimper lets him know.

“Oh —” He realizes what this means, and he sounds delighted. “My dear, I want you to come with me. Share this moment with me, come on.”

“Loki, I —” you plead, your entire body warming rapidly. “Oh… oh God —”

“Come on, leannan, come with me.”

And you do. You let go of everything in that moment, just reveling in the feeling of his arms around you and the immense pleasure you feel from your first real orgasm. You sob for him again, gripping his shoulders with trembling hands. He, after a few more seconds, comes inside you with a groan, and it takes a minute for the both of you to catch your breath.

Your heartbeats quieting, you practically melt into each other’s embrace as Loki falls into bed beside you. You absorb this feeling into your memory, of how the air feels and smells, how the sweat on your skin is oddly comforting, the look in Loki’s eyes…

“That…” you pant. “That was amazing…”

And Loki smiles. “I’m glad… I’m glad I could do that, my beautiful, wonderful wife…”

So ends your first night as husband and wife. One, you know, of many.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Comments and kudos are much appreciated. You can find me on Tumblr at "megthemewlingquim".


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